Page 13 of Seduction in Spades

His gaze rakes over my body slowing when it reaches my chest, and takes a painfully leisurely stroll down my legs, then back up again, resting on my mouth.

“That they are.” He tosses a box of condoms on his nightstand and stalks over to me. “I like you like this.”

“Naked?” Damn, why is my voice trembling?

“You’re not naked. Yet.” He slips a finger between the elastic of my panties and my hip and kneels as he lowers the panties down my legs.

Dear lord. I had a mind-blowing orgasm five minutes ago, and I’m pretty sure if Superman commanded me to come right now, I would. I feel the whisper of his breath against my inner thighs and reach for the dresser for support.

I step out of my panties, and he skims his hands up my thighs again, resting them on my ass.

“Open for me.”

My legs obey before I can ask any clarifying questions. Like, why is he giving me a second orgasm when he hasn’t even had one? And why is he clothed when I’m buck-ass naked except for my bra?

When his mouth touches my clit and he gently blows on me, all questions and my own clarity fall by the wayside.

“Mm. You’re wet again for me, sweetheart.”

“It’s just... leftovers.” Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. I did not just say that.

His shoulders bounce against my thighs as he laughs. I can’t believe how inappropriate and immature I’m being. This is sex. Sex with the hottest man ever to walk the planet, and I’m referring to my sex juices as leftovers?

Oh, lord. Sex juices is immature as well. Why do my friends and I have to be so wacky when we talk about sex? I’ve never talked so much during sex before. Granted, when I take on a lover, it’s after a few dates, and we know how the night will end. There’s never playful banter. Never laughing.

Laughing during sex is something I imagined long time lovers doing. Not one-night stands. Yet the hulk of sexy muscles between my legs doesn’t seem to mind. He darts his tongue inside my folds and laps me like he’s dying of thirst.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he says between my legs. The rumble of his voice adds another layer to my building orgasm.

“If you...” I pant as I rock my pussy in his face. “Want me to come...” I rock some more and grab onto his hair, pushing his face deeper into me. “On your cock... you better... stop.”

Shit. I’m going to come again. I close my eyes and clench my thighs. If he weren’t such a hulking man, I’d have suffocated him.

“Come on my tongue.”

Oh, geez. That does it. I curl my toes into the hardwood floor and let my head fall back as another orgasm explodes through me.

“Oh, god!” He doesn’t stop licking me. His fingers dig deeper into my ass. “Oh, my god. Holy shit.” I continue rocking against his tongue until the orgasm subsides.

My face is a mess of sweat and my legs are going to collapse the second he releases me. As if he can tell my body is completely useless, he picks me up and carries me to his bed. Fuck. I’m a goner. I never want to learn this man’s name or get his phone number. I’ll end up stalking him morning, noon, and night. Granted, I know where he lives. Sort of. I didn’t pay attention to the name of his street, but I’ll walk the entire city of Boston for the rest of my life until I find his brownstone again just so I can maybe catch a glimpse of him in the window.

When I don’t feel his body next to me on the bed, I open my eyes and watch him disappear out his bedroom door.

“Well, that was unexpected.” He could have at least said goodbye. My throat is parched from all the kissing, moaning, and screaming. I swing my feet to the floor and give myself a few seconds to catch my bearings. I’m still dizzy with post-orgasm bliss.

“I figured you’d be thirsty.” Superman appears before me with a glass of water.

That’s it. I’m having his babies. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Read my mind.”

“I’m getting there. Right now, I’m working on reading your body.”

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